


Promises To Keep

by DixieDale



Category: Clan O'Donnell - Fandom, Garrison's Gorillas
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-06-14
Updated: 2018-06-14
Packaged: 2019-05-21 22:34:31
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,506
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14924141
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DixieDale/pseuds/DixieDale
Summary: Promises - you shouldn't make them if you don't intend to keep them, that was Craig Garrison's firm opinion.  Accordingly, he made relatively few, knowing how uncertain life could be, and did his damnedest to keep the few he DID make.  Especially to those closest to him.  In this case, those promises lead to a dangerous con carried out right under the enemy's noses.   And the promises Meghada had made?  Well, they led to a con of a different sort, ending in a bit of social revenge that has Kevin Richards reaching for the bottle as he relates the story to the team.





	Promises To Keep

The first time Lieutenant Craig Garrison had heard him out, poured him a cup of coffee, politely refused his request based on policy; when the man insisted, Garrison reiterated his stance, and firmly sent him on his way. That night the team took off for Mission number what-ever-the-hell number it was, and returned six weary days later. Garrison shared two days of down-time, mostly taken up with debriefing, tending of various minor injuries and sleeping, before he was called to London for a meeting that didn't sound like it should involve him in the first place, but he shrugged and figured he'd stop and pick up some supplies at that little hospital Meghada's family seemed to have some strong connections to.

The frantic call from Sergeant Major Gil Rawlins was stalled, misdirected, delayed, whatever you want to call it, and only reached Garrison on his way out of the building several hours later. You could have heard a pin drop as he made his way back into the building, and the feeling of waiting for an impending explosion permeated all the way to the command wing of Special Forces, where various individuals hurriedly notified their Aides and assistants that "I'm away, you don't know when I'll be back!" as they scurried for the door. Efforts to get more information, to stop what had been put into play, all were to no avail, and in the end Garrison headed back to the Mansion, still mad enough to breathe fire.

Sergeant Major Rawlins was waiting in his office, the team - what was left of his team - in the Common Room above.

"Alright! Just what the hell happened??!"

Garrison heard it all out, Karp showing up for the second time with written orders, co-opting Casino and Goniff for a mission. No, Karp shared no details with Rawlins, just kept waving the orders, and he had men with him to back him up. A hasty phone call to HQ had Major Daniels backing up the orders, and it was with heavy foreboding that Rawlins had had to release the two men into the tender care of the Special Ops team leader.

"I tried to notify the Miss when I couldn't reach you; figured you'd want me to. She wasn't there; Doctor Riley said she'd been called out, but 'e'd try to pass the word on. That one, Karp, 'e laughed, said it was like 'e was checking a pair of toddlers out of kindergarten with all the fuss everyone was making, instead of them being rough and tough cons who should be able to look out for themselves. Just, 'e doesn't know them, not like you do," and the Sergeant Major's eyes showed his worry. Well, it pretty well matched Garrison's own, now didn't it? 

Every attempt Garrison made to get more information was quickly stonewalled, and although he thought Major Richards would have helped if he could have, not only wasn't he there, being off somewhere on a mission of his own, Richards was Special Forces, and Karp didn't seem to be part of Special Forces OR Special Ops, or not that he could discover, so even Richards probably wouldn't have been able to get any information.

Meghada still hadn't returned home, though AJ Riley said he passed the message along to the Clan in hopes they could locate her. Seems she'd been sent out on some hush-hush business by Whitehall and no one was letting out a peep as to where, except for a vague "somewhere in South America I believe."

Now, Karp was back for his third visit with four men accompanying him. Chief, watching from that window, spoke up first, "there's Casino, looks banged up. Dont see Goniff," and he and Actor hurried to the office to let Garrison know who'd just pulled up. They just missed seeing the second vehicle pull up, that one not stopping in front but heading around to the side closest to the kitchen door. 

They'd just let Garrison know when Karp and the other three men were shown in. Yes, Casino was one of the three, and a sorry sight, bandage around his head, face like sullen thunder. Garrison jerked his head at Actor, who hurried to the safecracker and helped him to a chair, quickly starting to assess the damage.

"Where's my other man??!" and instead of an answer, got a breezy, "meet Danny Oswald, master pickpocket, general all round odd job man. He's all yours; he'll do a good job for you," motioning offhandedly to the lanky brunette in the fatigues standing there awkwardly.

Garrison flicked his eyes over, then back, "answer me! Where the hell is Goniff??!"

Casino burst out, "they left him behind, Warden! I tried to . . ."

"Yes, he tried to delay us, tried to go in after him, of all the stupid stunts! Had to crack him across the head and pull him out; just about to leave his stupid ass too! Don't know why everyone talks about how great your guys are, Garrison; don't listen worth a damn," not seeming to see the shift in the Lieutenant's posture, in his eyes.

Garrison's voice was low, now, low and harsh.

"You left him. You left him where??! In what condition?? And why??!"

Karp frowned sharply, not overly pleased with what he considered irrelevant questions, "the guards started getting nervous; we had what we needed - couldn't risk the whole operation by waiting for one man, Garrison, you know that."

"WHERE, damnit??!"

A exasperated sigh, "Bordeaux," as if that ended it. Obviously Karp hadn't heard quite enough about this group if that was what he believed. 

An icy voice came from the doorway, from a young woman whose face made the voice seem warm by comparison. "Bordeau is a rather large place. Where, specifically? Details, and all of them, now!"

Karp looked around indignantly, "surely that's enough to include in the file, maybe a letter to his survivors, if there are any. I hardly see . . ." and while a sharp word from Garrison kept his men back, even as he himself stepped forward, neither kept the redhead from closing her fist around Karp's shirt collar at the front, cutting off his air.

"I don't care what you do or do not see; you will give us every detail . . ."

They were interrupted by a soft cough from the doorway, "Miss O'Donnell? A call for you, Miss. Urgent they said it was! I think you really need come."

She growled but Rawlins wouldn't have come for her without good cause; she pushed the gasping Karp toward Chief and Actor.

"I'll be back," following the wide-eyed non-com. The two men who had accompanied Karp had stayed out of all of the drama. The one supposedly backing up the team leader was rather enjoying seeing someone stand up to what was, in his opinion, the worst commander he'd ever experienced in his many years as a career soldier; the supposed replacement for Goniff was just out of his element, knowing nothing of the circumstances, just having been pulled out of a rotation at the last minute with no explanation other than "grab your gear and let's go!".

Garrison turned to Casino, "Actor?"

"I'd say a mild concussion, but I'd prefer AJ took a look at him to be sure. I'll call as soon as the line is clear," getting a nod from the team leader.

"Casino? What can you tell us?"

And the furious Casino laid it all out for them, ". . . and we had a chance, if we'd moved right then; hell, another three minutes he might have been out the back right on schedule, but Mr. In-Charge, he's not buyin it, he's for pulling out right away so Goniff ends up stuck there! Dont know what happened to him after that; this asshole lays me out with his gun upside my head and the next thing I know we're half-way back!"

Karp snapped, "I could have just left you there, and should have, too, for as much trouble as you've caused! Now look, Garrison, I don't see what you're so bent out of shape for; I told you, Oswald can do the same job for you, probably with less trouble on the side too! And as for your man, well, he doesn't really know anything important, so even if he's still alive, even if he talks, there's not much damage he can do, is there?"

Garrison's response, an extremely rude and inappropriate response in Karp's mind, especially being voiced by a fellow officer, was short-circuited by Meghada's reappearance.

"Craig, get rid of him and his two hounds, stat!" and a quick look showed him there was no time to waste.

He snarled at Karp, "get out, now. This isn't over, not by a long shot, but for now I don't want to see your face! Sergeant Major!" he yelled, and Rawlins stepped forward from his post right outside the door, where he'd heard everything pretty much. 

"Escort them out of here, and then get back right away. They are NOT to be permitted to re-enter Mansion grounds, is that understood?"

"Yes, sir, of course," motioning for the three men to head out. Any argument Karp might have wanted to give, he changed his mind at the looks he was getting, and the non-com didn't look any friendlier.

Oswald hesitated, turned back at the doorway, "I'm sorry, about your man. I don't know anything about this, except I was told to grab my gear and go with that one. Have to say, don't think I'd like working for him, not if he doesn't value his men any more than that," then quickly followed the others. Somehow he did rather think he'd like working for someone who got that upset about losing someone Karp had referred to in such disparaging terms; that was an officer he thought he might actually be able to follow with some confidence. Lord knows, he'd not come across many like that.

Meghada waited til they were out of earshot, then dragged up a chair.

"Bordeaux, Chateau de Simon. It's been converted to a combination hospital and safe holding institution since shortly after the war began. He's in the secured hospital area, which is well guarded. It could be a trap, or it could be as it appears, that they think he has information but is unable to answer their questions so they are waiting, if rather impatiently, til he can. It appears he is only conscious intermittently, and not lucid when he is; his injuries are . . ." her lips whitened with pressure, "his injuries are reported to be substantial; he certainly is not able to leave under his own power."

The team looked at her, looked at each other, then at Garrison, who was frowning at the wall opposite, lost in thought.

Chief gave just a twitch of his lips, "so, Warden, how do we get him out?" and Craig Garrison blinked rapidly, pulling himself back to reality.

"This won't be sanctioned by HQ, you know that."

"Yeah, yeah, well piss on HQ; how da we get the little Limey outta there?" came impatiently from the scowling Casino.

Garrison looked at Actor, seeing the ready if rather grim nod of that aristocratic head, and gave an extremely grim smile of his own, remembering that jail cell the two of them had shared so recently.

"Meghada, you obviously have sources there; who and in what positions, give us everything you've got," sitting back to drink in all she had to tell them. It would take money, transportation, connections, information - all of which could be obtained, though obviously not through HQ. Garrison thought the debt to the Clan would be rather heavy, that is, if they saw it as that and he didn't believe they would. Somehow, through that expendable little pickpocket, the Clan had gathered the whole lot of them to its rather broad bosom, and if Garrison had once thought it a rather uncomfortable place to be, he'd long ago changed his mind. 

The little problem of HQ's certain objections to their little endeavor was dealt with by a 'message' that would be conveniently delayed, mis-directed, etc, just like Rawlins' frantic messages to Garrison had been, and they accepted they would not know how successfully til later; but then, if this didn't work, there might not be a 'later' for any of them. More than all else, it would take determination, and a solid resolve that none of their team, their brotherhood, would be left behind, and there was certainly no lack of that.

And for Craig Garrison, there was more - promises made, spoken and unspoken - promises to Goniff, to Meghada and to himself, promises he was bound and determined to keep.

For Meghada? Well, she would follow Goniff wherever the journey led, and if he traveled the Long Road, she'd follow after him there as well. And if that happened, going down with the blood of his killers on her hands was a good way to go, though she intended to make sure her family had a note about Karp and Daniels. As for the guys, well, the family knew her wishes there as well. She'd try to keep the others as safe as possible, provide for them later, she'd promised that; but Goniff she'd follow, come what may; after all, she'd promised him that as well, that she would always come after him if he got lost.

It was when they were getting their gear together that Meghada was called away for the second time, and soon told them of what else she had put into play, what else she had learned.

"Updates all around."

"Meghada, you said he's badly injured. What about medical care? I can only do so much, especially on the run," came from Actor.

A grim smile came from Meghada. "It's just been confirmed, his injuries are much less severe than originally reported. Henri was in the right position to have done a bit with smoke and mirrors; yes, Goniff was injured in the capture, but not badly. His remaining unconscious this long, which was worrisome, was not an accident - he's had some help from our contact, Henri, and it appears Henri is also making sure everyone believes he is hurt much more than he is. Hopefully those waiting to question him will not catch on to that! By the way, we'll be taking Henri with us; it's a death sentence if they catch on to him after we leave. And the exit crew? There will be medical personnel there."

She paused to take the glass Garrison handed her and took a swallow. "Transport is in place, packets, everything we hopefully will need all waiting. We leave in thirty minutes, outside car waiting at my place. The family is watching, keeping tabs at HQ, and also waiting with an exit from France. We'll be headed for a safe location; they'll let us know just how much hit the fan in London and what to expect. There are various options they'll have ready. I'll go over the plans, the exit again on the trip out. The family is waiting for us, each of us, so if I don't make it out, if . . . What I'm saying is, even if it's only one of you gets back out, there's a welcome waiting; don't hesitate to use it! I'd be most disappointed, and you know how I get!"

That got a strained chuckle, the thought of a disappointed Dragon coming after them in ghost form to tell them a thing or two. 

The con was a good one, perhaps one of their best, Garrison thought. Orders from Berlin, beautifully done, ("Douglas - he has a nice hand with documents and such!"), ordering the prisoner to be transported immediately in the custody of this 'specially chosen unit', complete with cold faced nurse with medical bag who seemed to do a great deal of the giving of orders.

"And I am short one man; the fool disobeyed a direct order, I had to have him shot. I'll take," looking around at the apprehensive men trying to get the prisoner ready for transport, "I'll take that one."

"Henri?"

That got him a scowl, "I didn't ask for the fool's name; just mark him down as being on detached duty and if he's no better than the one I was given in the first place, I'd really not expect him back!"

That was snarled with a very nasty look, and Henri's eyes got huge and he swallowed hard, but he scurried to do as he was told, not even protesting when he was told to "just come! I don't intend to wait around while you pack your socks!"

The officer in charge of security took another look at the nurse and shuddered; she wasn't ugly, certainly, but to his mind, she wasn't someone he'd want looking out for his wellbeing. Her hair was drawn back tight against her scalp, her face set in cold, cruel lines, lips turned downward in a permanent grimace. Her few words reinforced that, showing her to be looking out for the wellbeing of the Reich and no one else; the whisper from the tall officer, one obviously from the elite of Hitler's forces, hinted she was also an expert questioner and rather enjoyed her work, and somehow that wasn't doubted one bit after the icy appraisal she gave the slight blond prisoner, still only occasionally showing signs of coming around.

"He'd wake up for me, I assure you," the woman said, no change in the expression on her face. "They always do, with the right encouragement. I want his records too, all evidence even of his presence here. As far as you and the others here are concerned, he never was here, is that clearly understood??!"

The officer in charge hurriedly agreed, gave orders for the orderlies to give the team all assistance, and although he had a tinge of distaste for what he knew would be the prisoner's eventual fate, still it was with great relief he saw them off and gone. Perhaps almost as much relief as the men and one woman felt as they drove off, precious burden on the stretcher loaded in with them, headed toward the exit point. 

Goniff was starting to swim a bit closer to the surface by the time they reached the rendezvous point, the sedatives Henri had been feeding him finally wearing off, and the quick ministrations of another blond with blue eyes, this one taller and more of a husky build, had him blinking his eyes and looking around in puzzlement.

Everyone gave a relieved sigh when they heard that raspy voice asking, "but, you weren't with us, just Casino and me and that Fish guy and 'is crew. What . . .?" and got a low, harsh explanation from Casino.

"We came after you, ya dumb Limey; didn't much care for the replacement they wanted to stick us with. Might have been okay on the quick finger stuff, but didn't have a clue how to cheat at Solitaire and wouldn't recognize a pair a loaded dice on a bet!"

That got a bewildered, still slightly dopy frown as their resident pickpocket eyed each one of them in turn, pausing just a moment longer on Meghada and then on Garrison.

"You came after . . ."

Chief then turned the scene to one of quiet laughs when he told Goniff, "hell yeah, we came after you; we had to; you still own Casino five bucks from that last poker game. Couldn't let you bail on that. People'll start thinkin we're going soft or somethin."

A warm hand closed over one of those of the now half-drowsing man, and Meghada dropped a soft kiss on his cheek, whispering in his ear, "that's from both of us, love; try to sleep now," and watched as a slow sleepy smile came to his face.

She raised her gold brown eyes to meet the anxious green ones, nodded meaningfully, and saw Garrison start to relax just a bit, knowing the message had been delivered. He'd envied her the freedom of what she'd just done, longed for the day when perhaps he would no longer have to deny himself that privilege. In the meantime, though, just as long as Goniff knew and understood, he'd content himself with that.

Henri looked around at the little group; he didn't understand much of what had happened, but was more than thankful they'd pulled him out with them. The past months at the Chateau had been difficult ones, but he'd done his job. Still, deep cover was an exhausting business, and he was glad for a chance to breathe free air for awhile.

Their safe spot turned out to be in Switzerland, a mountain chalet owned by one Rene DuClos, ex-con man extraordinaire, the one made notorious among them by Ciena's relating of the story about that infamous car race. ('The Great Race, Or, History Has A Way of Repeating Itself')

Actor for one was delighted at the opportunity to meet the man so renowned in his own field and to hear a recounting of that infamous racing debacle from the great man's point of view. Their host and his wife made them welcome, clucking over Meghada like she was a long-lost daughter, and then Goniff as well, once Julie DuClos realized the relationship between those two; Gavin continued his medical care, and they were all relieved to hear that the injuries Goniff had endured were actually pretty minor, mendable ones, with no lingering aftereffects expected.

"Often the way with the wiry ones, you know. I've two brothers built much like him; both can take a fall from a horse and pretty much bounce - me, I hit more like a bag of grain, thud! Of course, they can't take the heavy poundings as well as I can, and you've got to be more careful of what you put in their system, so I guess it evens out. It'll take awhile for all the dope to work its way out, but he should be fine. We're all different, that's what makes it all work, of course." 

Now they were waiting for word from Meghada's people as to how HQ had taken that message, the one informing them that Garrison and the team were headed out after their missing team member. When it finally came, it had the whole team snickering around the good red wine Rene's white-haired wife Julia had poured them earlier.

"Seems they were in an uproar about you just disappearing like that without orders, but then, when that message you sent was 'discovered', sitting right there in the bottom of Major Daniels' In-Tray, the same Major Daniels who'd okayed Karp 'borrowing' Casino and Goniff in the first place, there were a few red faces. One of the Friends in the area made a casual mention, "well, if no one told Garrison he wasn't to go after his man after he'd obviously sent word in advance of what he intended, I really don't see . . .", which made the rounds quickly. Another few words somewhere else, by someone else, about how he'd think himself damned lucky to work with an officer, a team that had that much loyalty established, then another snippet here and there, and it seemed that, though very few of the Powers That Be approved or were happy at Garrison's actions, they didn't want to risk the outright ridicule it seemed likely they'd receive if they tried any sort of reprimand, since the overwhelming opinion of those NOT in their lofty ranks was rather more favorable toward the team."

The Special Forces teams and leaders had first been sullenly angry at the whole mess, and the atmosphere hadn't improved much, at least where HQ was concerned. They were getting sick and tired of the way Special Forces was discounted and shrugged off, their men being dragged off to work with those who didn't understand them or know how to get the best from them, any losses being considered unimportant. And, they had to admit, whatever else Garrison's men might be, they were Special Forces, damned good at their jobs, and that counted for something with the rest of them. 

Major Kevin Richards had returned from a mission of his own to hear the whole story, well, as much of it as was common knowledge, and cringed at what the outcome might be if Garrison's men were unsuccessful in retrieving their cheeky little Cockney.

He pictured Garrison, each of those very dangerous, very capable men, then he pictured one very irate Dragon. He thought again, about what he knew about Meghada and that irritating little thief, what he knew about Bonded couples from his interactions with the Clan, and reached into his bottom drawer for the bottle he kept there. He sat looking at the bottle, the glass, deciding whether his stomach would tolerate the contents on what was a very empty stomach; remembered the very unappetizing smells that had come from the Commissary when he'd passed it earlier, and decided to take the chance.

When his phone rang and he found Michael O'Donnell at the other end, with an invitation to lunch, he jumped at the chance, hoping not only for some edible food but some information as well; he took some comfort in the cheery tone in the young man's voice.

"No, I'd as soon NOT hear the entire story, but I suppose I really should," he sighed as he seated himself at the small East End pub he'd been directed to, somehow not surprisingly since he'd been here once before. The Clan did seem to make itself at home in these unwelcoming streets, he thought to himself.

"Yes, you probably should; I imagine it's pretty well made its way around your area, in some version or the other. One important part, of course, is that Major Daniels and this Karp basically stole," he paused at the raised eyebrows of the British major seated opposite him, "stole, absconded with under protest, took without knowledge or direct permission, whatever words or phrases you want to use, two of Garrison's team, his pickpocket and his safecracker. According to my sources, the message alerting the Lieutenant of what was afoot was deliberately delayed to prevent him intervening; mind you, this was after Garrison had already declined to loan his men to this Karp fellow, whoever the hell he is or thinks he is."

Richards could tell that Michael was pretty pissed off about this as well; {"well, once they adopt you, they ALL adopt you."} 

"No one would tell Garrison anything, except they were assigned to a mission and would be returned later, and when Karp finally came back, it was only with Casino - a rather battered Casino, having taken a revolver to the side of his head by your Mr. Karp when he protested the abandonment of their pickpocket," ignoring Richards' protest that "he is hardly MY Mr. Karp!".

"Mr. Karp DID think to bring what he called a suitable replacement for Goniff, and was rather puzzled when no one seemed overly pleased with his thoughtfulness. His explanation won him no friends either," pausing to sip at his whiskey.

"His explanation?" Richards asked.

"Yes. That this new man, Oswald, should do the same job with less trouble on the side anyway; and Goniff was probably already dead, but if not, since Goniff didn't really have any valuable information, it was no real problem if Jerry had him for interrogation or whatever. As I said, no one was feeling very friendly towards him; I didn't bother to ask my sister her feelings, I imagine they were quite evident. And I have to agree; people who are so careless with what they borrow should have their borrowing credentials cancelled immediately and permanently; any decent lending library would do the same, you know." 

A very blonde waitress came over to their table, "and it's good to see you again, boy; who's your friend?" casting a somewhat wary eye over the British officer.

"I just couldn't keep away, Marisol my lovely; do you think you can feed us, perhaps come up with some libation as well? And this is my guest Major Richards; Maudie will probably remember him from a little while back; she acted as go-between for him and the Lads and our Meghada."

Richards noted somewhat ruefully that Michael had not introduced him as a Friend, but as a guest; that meant those in this small pub might accept his presence, but wouldn't be forthcoming or particularly trusting with him. They ordered, and turned their conversation back to the matter at hand.

"Have you heard from them? Is it done? Were they successful? Michael, I really want to know."

"Yes, I can see you do, but the question is, who wants to know? Major Kevin Richards, Special Forces, in Her Majesty's Service, denizen of the hallowed halls of HQ? Or Kevin Richards, family friend and frequent guest in my parents' house and my sister's cottage?" The brown eyes meeting Richards' silver-grey ones were steady but non-compromising.

"Both, I believe. I think both can be of some assistance, and both have genuine concern."

Michael turned away to receive his plate from Marisol, waited while Richards did the same, "another drink, Mari, if you please."

Michael O'Donnell seemed to consider that frank statement carefully before he nodded, "very well. I know I don't have to caution you; you know us far too well for that to be necessary; you're a Friend; I'd hate for anything to change that. Yes, it's done, and was successful. They got him out, though he'd taken some damage. I'll tell you, I doubt anyone is . . . Well, if there is a Shit List, I think Mr. Karp AND Major Daniels are firmly entrenched on it. Goniff was already at the back entrance, ready to leave, no problems; gets to the spot right on schedule, they've already gone, and then the guards are there and frankly they were not too happy to find him; you know he doesn't speak German or French and couldn't exactly hide he was an outsider. Well, we have him back now. The question now is, what happens when Garrison and the team gets back?"

Richards gave him a knowing look, "you mean they're actually coming back?"

Michael's wry grin was telling, "well, that might depend on what their reception is likely to be. They actually are committed to this battle, you know, and would sincerely like those paroles that were promised, but none of them are stupid. If they'd be walking into some yahoo sending them back to prison, or cashiering Garrison, well, let's just say they might consider other options. And I assure you, Kevin, they have options, as a team and individually. Meghada, and through her, the Clan, well, that's been seen to. And if that means her pulling up stakes, abandoning what she's worked so hard to build in Brandonshire, then she'll do that without a second glance." 

Richards snorted, "she's never going to get over this infatuation or whatever the hell it is, is she?"

Michael shook his head, now with a sincere though sympathetic smile, "it's hardly infatuation, Kevin. We tend not to get over love, not those of us from the Clan, and frankly, I think we're much the better for that bit of 'stubbornness'. Do yourself a favor; don't ever ask her just who or what she would be willing to sacrifice to save him, the others. You would just be setting yourself up for a severe shock."

In the end, the team drove back onto the grounds of the Mansion just as if from any other mission. And if the fires had been stoked a bit higher, the wide smiles and snappy salute at the gate highly enthusiastic, if the welcome especially warm and quite sincere, it probably was to be expected; it wasn't only the four cons who'd formed an attachment over the past many months. Sergeant Major Rawlins had been fighting a grin ever since he got that phone call, and Privates Perkins and Jenkins weren't even making an attempt; the kitchen had seen visits from Alice Miller and Sheila Riley, each bearing pots and pans for this first meal home.

Old Howie had brought a basket of fresh bread and scones from Mrs. Wilson, explaining the washer woman wasn't so able to make the trek herself, this being a heavy wash day for her, but wanted something there as a welcome. As for that second basket he was lugging, "got the dozen eggs from Mollie Henderson, with her regards, and I brought the butter and creamed cheese as my part," with a toothy grin.

Rebecka Standish had brought a tray of pastries she'd baked, her knowing quite well her safe and secure place in this community, once thought lost and in tatters, could be laid squarely at the feet of these men, along with Meghada O'Donnell, of course. ('Amateur Theatricals'). Lou and Jake had sent up a couple of bottles of whiskey a bit better than the usual, and Nellie and Josie had sent a tin of candies.

Garrison, looking at the array, snorted and told Rawlins, "so much for our comings and goings being kept secret!" and got a laugh in return.

"Well, you know 'ow it is, sir. Everyone's right glad to see you all back. Doctor Riley will be up directly; 'e supposedly is to take over looking after Goniff. Is 'e going to be alright, Lieutenant? Was awful quiet when 'e came in, for 'im, I mean, no chattering and bouncing around," knowing the pickpocket had needed help getting up that staircase.

"Well, I expect he'll be chattering after he gets some rest and stops being airsick, though the bouncing around may take a bit longer. He should be fine, Gil; he was under pretty heavy sedation and it's taking awhile to work its way out of his system, that's all, and he couldn't use the airsick stuff til it does. If that wasn't the case, Meghada would be here, not headed back to her Cottage to check on things there first. You know how she is," eliciting a knowing smile from the non-com.

"Yes, sir, indeed I do! And she's alright as well, the Miss?"

"Other than bearing a queen-sized grudge against that Karp and Major Daniels, yes. By the way, did anyone ever figure out just who the hell Karp IS?" 

That got a very old-fashioned look and a hearty snort from Rawlins, "Lieutenant Karp is one of 'er Majesty's finest," sarcasm rich in his voice. "Born a toff, silver spoon and all, family in the Doomsday Book, you know. Bot 'is commission, of course, and seems to 'ave managed to convince some fairly important people that 'e knows what 'e's doing, a bit of a mastermind even, which, pardon me for saying so, Lieutenant, I see no evidence of that being the case, nor any of the other non-coms either from what I hear. Very much of the opinion that those born to 'is social level and above are worthy of consideration, everyone else not so very much. Still making noises of 'ow ungrateful and rude you were, after all 'is effort to find another pickpocket for you to use; been 'eard to remark 'after all, one set of slippery fingers should be pretty much like another, what?' Don't know it would be good to repeat that to the other guys or to the Miss, though; doubt they'd take it too well."

Garrison snorted loudly, "no, I doubt they would," thinking of the small man with the slippery fingers, {"and the mischievious pale blue eyes and engaging grin, and the carefully hidden courage, the fierce loyalty and the caring spirit, and the Mother Hen complex, and the loving heart. . ."} Frankly, Garrison wasn't taking that comment any too well himself.

Major Richards managed to see that he was handling Garrison's team most of the time now, and if the missions weren't easy by any stretch of the imagination, at least Richards understood them better than most and was inclined to cut them some slack and wasn't inclined to pull the rug out from underneath them. They didn't encounter either Lieutenant Karp or Major Daniels, and that was probably for the best. After all, in the eyes of the military, neither man had done anything wrong, simply business as usual, fortunes of war, etc.

Garrison and his team had been ordered to go out of their way to avoid both men, and they'd been kept busy enough there really hadn't been much time to go searching them out anyway. Of course, if they hadn't had that casual little discussion with the redhead down at the Cottage, they probably would have MADE the time; as it was, well, 'Coals to Newcastle' and all that.

Meghada, however, with her entree into both the civilian and the military social scene by way of various friends and acquaintences, including an enthusiastic Julie Richards, did meet up with them, on numerous occasions. In fact, she started accepting many, many more invitations than she normally would, such being things she would usually avoid if she could at all.

But now, well, she was well on her way to being a veritable social butterfly, to all intents and purposes, much to Julie's considerable amusement. After all, Julie was her willing confederate in this little endeavor, as Julie could ferret out just who could be expected to be at which events, give her a heads-up about the layout of the rooms, other little tidbits of information that might prove helpful, thus letting Meghada make the absolute best use of her time and energy.

So successful were they that Major Richards paid a personal visit to the Mansion to speak with the team at large. He brought a rather nice bottle of whiskey to encourage their attention and cooperation in bringing a vengeful and overly imaginative Dragon into check. If he'd thought a Dragon intent on physical retribution was daunting, he now was wondering if a Dragon intent on social retribution might not be, in some ways, just as bad, the damage in some ways just as painful and perhaps more longlasting.

"And while I'll admit it has been interesting, and quite frankly, rather amusing, I think it might be approaching the point where you could honestly say it is getting out of hand. Well, you know how she is when she focuses, single-minded doesn't even begin to describe it," that getting snorts of agreement from the men gathered around the table. Even Gil Rawlins was there, now more a member of the team than not, much to Richards' rueful and amused bewilderment. 

"What's she done, Major?"

The British officer's lips twitched as if he was restraining a grin.

"As far as I can discern, the first episode was at a reception at Hanover House. She was presented to Major Daniels and it was as if she didn't even see him; kept chattering to the woman who'd tried to introduce him, giving the distinct impression she thought the poor lady was hallucinating and trying to be understanding, of course, but not willing to humor her to the point of accepting that hallucination as real. Totally confused the both of them, I gather, the woman and Daniels, I mean. Meghada was anything but confused, the brat. Then, when she moved away, she basically acted if he were invisible; if he hadn't moved back at the last minute, would have plowed right through him. Alright, so a direct cut, carried to extremes, embarrassing to Daniels, certainly and it certainly aroused speculation."

"Even more so at a dinner dance at the Morrison's, a venue to which she's often been invited, but only occasionally has she accepted. She was being her usual graceful, dignified social self, and I'll be the first to admit she does that quite well when she's willing to make the effort, when he walked in and Julie said it was like Meghada had seen a large snake or a large rodent, perhaps something even more repellent, stiffened, stared as if in total disbelief, and stalked away."

"It was all very obvious to everyone watching just WHO had caused that reaction, even if most had no idea why; it seems she had been positioned perfectly so that her reaction had that effect. Well, of course she would have made sure of that; she knows quite well how to set a scene!"

"She walked over to Colonel Lord Morrison and Mrs. Morrison, made her regrets with a rather stern, "I must apologize for any inconvenience, but I really cannot stay. I hadn't realized quite what the company would entail, you see; if I had known certain persons would be in attendance, I would have sent my Regrets rather than leave you with a vacant place at the table," and left, leaving it to the rumor mill to explain to the rather bewildered hosts."

"Julie says the whispers just kept flying, and Major Daniels was the object of much unwanted attention and speculation. Well, you know how people like to invent a story if they don't know the real one, and I imagine things got rather lurid; poor Major Daniels found himself being welcomed or approached only by those eager to hear the story, and I don't believe, at that point anyway, he really knew her motivation since Lieutenant Karp hadn't been formally introduced at their one meeting so hadn't relayed anything specific to Daniels, so nothing he said had any favorable impact. Since everyone else started avoiding him most carefully, I doubt his short stay was a pleasant one." Chuckles filled the room as they visualized all of that. 

"Lieutenant Karp crossed her path at that Monthly Social Hour one of the senior officer's wives thought up as a good way for the ranks to 'become better acquainted'. Julie, the little wretch, couldn't stop laughing telling me about that. Meghada acted like a total little . . . ! She was even the one to bring up his name, but ONLY after she saw him come into the room, I gather."

Richards voice changed into a dithery tone reminiscent of his sister at her most feather-brained, but with a put-on Celtic accent. "Well, I was talking with, oh, let me think now, just who was it? Oh well, that isn't important; anyway, she asked me if I'd met him! Well, of course I hadn't! Can you believe??! I mean, why on earth would I want to meet him? I can't imagine what on earth I'd have to talk about with a fish! I don't even swim! And I can't abide fish even when prepared with a sauce. I mean, just the sight of it makes me positively ill!""

"No one seemed to be able to get through to her they were talking about a man, an officer. She just went on and on, til someone had the bright idea of bringing him over to introduce him and make her understand it was an officer, not a fish, they'd been talking about. Had them snorting in their drinks when she just looked him up and down, eyes absolutely huge, and then stage-whispered to Julie, "how on earth did they get a uniform to fit him? His gills aren't too obvious, I suppose, hidden by those rather oddly shaped ears; do you think they're paper mache? But how did they manage the legs, do you think? Are they mechanical? And what about his fins and tail? Do you think they just bend over or fold flat or what? Or is that an indelicate thing to even consider, rather like wondering about how men manage . . ." She even forced a blush at that little bit of whimsy!"

The guys roared!

"Then she went on - "Of course, there's no mistaking those cold round little eyes, and wet mouth. Surely no one thinks they're fooling anyone, and I have never heard the Germans are actually stupid. I must say, my dear, we must really be hard up if we've started putting the creatures in uniform. Well, I could rather understand dogs, particularly those ferocious, rather handsome ones like you see on guard sometimes; maybe horses or cats, - they can all be quite intelligent - and I imagine birds could come quite in handy - carrying messages and all. But fish? Can't imagine any earthly use to the war effort fish could be; surely their mobility is quite limited. I've never heard of them as being at all bright, and so distasteful to be around, what with the sliminess and the smell, you know. Especially pike and carp and the like; extremely unpleasant personal habits, I've heard. Certainly would have to affect the flavor, not that I can really understand how anyone could stomach it at its best, and all those nasty little bones to stab you unexpectedly. Did I ever tell you about the time I was served chilled flounder with little shrimps in a dill sauce? The cook was obviously new at her job and not only had not de-boned the flounder but left the shells on the poor shrimps! Oh my dear, I almost embarrassed myself, barely got out of the room in time.""

"She wandered off, my sister in her train, still chattering like a total lunatic! People were laughing by now, seeing just what she was doing finally, and I understand the Lieutenant was doing a pretty good imitation of a fish by then, actually - bulging eyes and his mouth moving like this," imitating the pursed opening and closing mouth in quick motion. "Man was beet red and left almost at once."

Private Jenkins cleared his throat, "Major Richards, sir, a call for you. A matter of some urgency, they say, regarding the O'Donnell miss," and Richards hurried away to the office. Garrison and his men laughed and joked about Meghada and her socializing, and were in a good frame of mind when a stunned looking Richards re-entered, sat down and grabbed the bottle to pour himself another drink. 

"Never mind what I said about it starting to get out of hand. It is well and truly put to paid now." He sighed, snorted in amusement in spite of his best intentions, took a healthy swig, and the others urged him to tell all.

"She was in the Commissary, just down from delivering some translations and ran into the two of them. Seems they'd been comparing notes, asking questions considering their recent run-ins with her, found out a few things, and faced her. She seemed to have kept her cool, but when they ragged her about obviously being the dominatrix type considering her reputation and her choice of men, asking her about her whips and leather, made a comment about her and Goniff, about her probably being able to beat the crap out of him with one hand tied behind her back, she just laughed and told them, "I probably could, not that I'd ever want to or have any reason to, but I could do the same with either, or even both of you as well, so I don't see that is relevent to anything! And I assure you I am extremely particular, in all the ways that matter. It's not as if he's my sparring partner after all; those are much more common and easy to find and replace! Truly a dime a dozen, you know; YOU two might even qualify if I'm having a rather lax day when I'm not in the mood to really exert myself; Goniff, on the other hand, is quite rare, irreplacable even, since it's not in the ring he companies me," with the emphasis pretty much spelling out exactly what he IS to her!" He threw another glare at his fellow Englishman, who was now grinning all over himself. 

"Well, I really don't see how she managed to manoeuvre them into it, frankly it seems rather unbelievable that they'd be so appallingly stupid as to agree to it, though I have it on good authority that they DID, but it seems she just now trounced the both of them, in the ring, true open style, no holds barred, no protective gear" that getting somewhat sympathetic winces from the men present, knowing the Dragon as they did, "in front of a lively little crowd. So now we have two officers, engaging in fisticuffs with a female, in front of numerous witnesses, and having her wipe the floor with them. My understanding is that they are both requesting immediate transfer, and I can hardly blame them; they'll never live this down, not here!" The roar filled the room as they all visualized the sight. 

Goniff grinned and commented to Richards, as he glanced over at Garrison, "single-minded, or bloody-minded, Major? Which did you say now?" getting a singularly dirty look in return, (though an alert observer would see more than a hint of amusement buried underneath).

"It would seem both apply equally well, and I would just like to say that I don't consider any of you any better an influence on her than she obviously is on you!" And the roar was even louder this time.

And he pretended not to hear the little Englishman's loud whisper to Garrison, "she's something else, she is! Coo, Warden, gets me all hot and edgy just thinking about 'er taking on those two!! Figure she'll make it back 'ome tonight??" wiggling his brows enthusiastically. Actor and Chief looked both amused and perhaps a little embarrassed by that statement, Casino rather dumbfounded, thinking his usual, {"sheesh, those two!!!",} but Garrison was hugely entertained. He knew not only was that very true, but he also knew it was almost as pleasurable for their resident pickpocket to see just how much that blunt statement thoroughly annoyed the rather uptight British major. 

Actually, Garrison was finding both were rather true for himself as well. Well, perhaps the Major was right; perhaps the guys and Meghada WERE a bad influence on each other and on him, but that was alright; if he were to be totally honest, the American Lieutenant considered the changes in himself to be a vast improvement over the way he was before he became involved with this bunch of wild cards. He glanced over at Goniff, seeing the totally wicked knowing amusement in those hazy blue eyes and that sly anticipatory smile, and found himself blushing. {"I've really got to stop doing that,"} but found himself grinning back at the small blond anyway. Luckily Major Richards was busy pouring himself another drink and missed all of that or he would have found himself with even more to worry and annoy him on the trip home. If he'd been able to visualize the scene at the Cottage later that night, once Meghada arrived home and Craig and Goniff had made the short journey to meet her, he'd have been more than worried and annoyed; he'd have been apoplectic!


End file.
